


Bear with me

by sentimental_fool



Series: On Bears and Bees [1]
Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentimental_fool/pseuds/sentimental_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work was inspired by and based on the alternative timeline created in "First impressions" by manic_intent. I recommend you read that beautiful piece of art first.  My fabrications make no justice to it. </p><p>Story takes place few years after the main story  in "First Impressions".</p><p>Peter and Thomas run into mysterious woman from the edge of the Europe and Thomas seems to be forgetting which side he is batting. Peter might let the jealousy spoil all the fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [First Impressions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/849194) by [manic_intent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent). 



> This is my first fanfiction ever written. In progress of being beta'ed

 I was cold, damp, and tired. It was late September and I was investigating suspected ghoul attacks at the Highgate Cemetery with Thomas. Normally ghouls were keeping to themselves and their secretive, appalling lifestyle, but now there had been reports of something sounding very much like them charging at people and even reports of attempts at biting. It could well be just some prank, but ghoul bites are nasty and Commissioner didn't want to take risks. So, here I was, trying to sniff out the trail of the supernatural. It had been a typical London weather, heavy rain followed by the occasional drizzle. Despite of the rain gear I had, there was no dry place on my body - if nothing else, it just seemed to help the humidity that had crept in, stay and marinate within me. What fun.

 There were no signs of ghouls whatsoever and I was starting to expect it really was just some kids scaring passer-byes. I do admit that I, myself, would have counted terrorizing strangers as an amusing idea when I was an adolescent. But my word, if it turned out that I had been freezing my butt in the middle of the night over some joke... I would hunt those damn brats down and let the Community Service Unit do their worst. I would have been so much happier to be at home, in our king sized, comfortable bed under the soft, warm covers snuggling with Thomas and maybe something else... despite the cold, I could feel the heat dashing through my loins. It was just _crazy_. We had been together for two years and the mere idea of intimacy with him could still make me hot.

 I was withdrawing inside of my raincoat, trying to find the warmth from my fantasies when I saw Thomas strode towards me, carrying a tray of cups and a bag. _Food. Coffee._ My thoughts turned from one basic psychological need to another faster than you can say "Maslow."

 "I didn't want you to be famished," he said, almost tenderly, "so when I walked past the open grill, I decided to bring some nourishment."

 He pushed the tray and bag towards me and could not help looking pleased when I grabbed them greedily. Mine - ALL MINE. I lowered the provisions on to the nearby gravestone and dug in.

 I knew that this kind of catering meant that we were going to stay here quite a while still, but it didn't fade the animal pleasure I felt when I first took a sip of hot coffee - it was _so good_ , with the placebo effect kicking in right away - and I almost buried my face in the pita kebab.

 "Thanks," I mumbled between mouthfuls, "I really needed this."

 Thomas had taken his coffee and was sipping it, as always, with a style that would have made The Queen think she was a tad unrefined. So it was not a great surprise when he raised his eyebrows as in desperation and let out a sigh.

 "Peter... sometimes you make me wonder whether you are a descendant of those bewitched by Circe."

 I was tempted to oink, but instead I swallowed most of what was in my mouth and stretched to give a messy, onion flavored kiss to his cheek.

 "I know you love me for it."

 I shot him an innocent smile. He brushed me away with a mock disgust, and smiling slyly, he dug into his mackintosh to bring out a handkerchief. He wiped his cheek glaring at me - man, he was adorable when he was trying so hard to be angry with me and failing - and after making sure all the mess I had left was gone, he handed it over to me, with a pleading look. As I reached for it, I managed to fumble the rest of the portion onto my coat and in the attempt to stop the spill from happening, I naturally achieved to spread it even worse.

 "Oh, for fucks sake..." I started. "... I mean, bugger." Thomas was not comfortable with me swearing. He said it did not suit anybody and least someone he cared for. His modesty was awkward and more than bit frustrating sometimes. But I tried to understand something one has internalized and practiced for most of their lives - let alone if life had been as long as Thomas's - just does not shake off in couple of years. So I did not intentionally hurt his delicate sense of proper behavior. Okay, sometimes I did, but you do not vex a person who just kindly brought you food.

 Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, coughing out something like laughter, and started to dig for more handkerchiefs.

 I was still in the midst of cleaning myself when a woman appeared between the mausoleums maybe a hundred meters from us. She was wearing a bright green rain poncho. She was holding a torch, pointing at the buildings and was apparently too focused on whatever she was looking for to notice us. Thomas glanced at my sad attempts to make myself look decent again.

 "I'd better ask her what she is up to and enjoin her to leave," he said. "We need to finish here. I cannot wait to get home from this wretched weather."

 He started briskly marching towards the woman. I concentrated on the slippery sauce first on my dickey and then all over my hands. Didn't they have hoses at the cemeteries for watering the flowers? I could just spray myself clean. I mused with the idea when suddenly I realized it had been quite long since Thomas left. It would usually take no time at all to ask civilians to move on. Sudden fear strangled my guts, and I turned to the direction where he had walked.

 And there he was, chatting happily with the woman, having no apparent rush to continue our investigation and get my poor frozen behind out of here. I felt mildly annoyed, but decided that woman must have seen something related to the case and Thomas was now gathering useful information to get me to the warmth of our bed as soon as possible. It was plausible - he wasn't the one to get chatty even at the best of circumstances, not to mention when he was eager to get home.

 I strolled slowly towards them and to my amazement, it was not Thomas, but the woman having a notebook in her hands and writing. Another officer? I decided against that as she started talking again. It looked way too casual to be a conversation between two cops. Thomas was laughing, bending down to her and woman was raising her hand to his cheek in extremely friendly manner. He did not stop her. Maybe some old acquaintance? I had never witnessed Thomas in such an intimate state, excluding with yours truly. I was surprised to feel a stab of jealousy. Who was this female? 

I was paying more attention to her looks as I paced closer as nonchalantly as I could. I had thought it was just the rain poncho that had pillowed around her to make her look so round, but she was indeed one of the fattest women I had seen in a while. She was short, at least twenty centimeters shorter than Thomas and she seemed to be almost as wide as she was tall. I liked round women, but man, spherical was not healthy anymore. And yet, there was something in her that was intriguing.

As she was talking, she moved her hands in wide, vivid gestures, and her whole body was taking part in expressing the emotion. She was maybe in her thirties, but it was hard to tell. Her red hair accentuated incredibly fair skin - she was almost glowing in the dark. She had a beautiful, round face, full of expression. As a whole, she was actually very pleasing to the eye, laughing and smiling, looking directly at Thomas with what I realized with horror was pure, unmasked lust. Succubus. And she had somehow subjugated Thomas.

 


	2. II

 I had no idea would I be able to defeat the creature that had managed to overcome a wizard way more competent than I was. I didn't care. All I could see in my head was The Pale Lady, the only real succubus I had the misfortune to come across couple of years ago. She had enticed men into having sex with her, then emasculated them with her _teethed vagina_. I was shuddering of the idea of anything remotely similar happening to Thomas. I didn't care what would happen to me, but the bitch was going to find out that engulfing the genitals of my friend and lover was not happening that easily. I was closing in, clenching my jaw, and started to gather the _forma_ in my mind to blow the creature to the other county.

 It was just then that Thomas turned to face me, saw my expression and stepped in between the woman and I, blocking my way. I was naturally convinced he had been made to do that; my poor dear as an unwilling marionette of a deadly manhood-eater... and cursed under my breath, until I realized Thomas was frowning, cocking his head and mouthing silently at me.

 "What are you doing?"

 I looked into his eyes, wide and confused and saw no sign of conjuration. I shook my head, stopped all I was doing and breathed out. The woman was now stepping from behind Thomas, a bit bewildered.

 "Is there something wrong," she asked all wide eyes, her attention darting from me to Thomas and back again.She looked scared, almost ready to flee. And I felt like an idiot. She was obviously just an ordinary woman, and I had almost blasted her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 When our relationship had established, Thomas had asked to be replaced as my governor. He was still my master in magic though, apprenticeship once started, cannot be terminated. What we also couldn't do, although it might have been a good idea, was to stop being partners in work. There simply wasn't enough of us on the department of "X-file Shit," as Inspector Seawoll so warmly called us. Lesley worked with Thomas as often as she could, but she had long hospital stays as they were slowly building her a face, and she was also busy taking care of Abby. Our young Merlin needed lots of support and being her best friend/sister/substitute-mother, the figure had quite naturally fallen to Lesley.

 Working with your lover is not a good thing. It might seem so at first, what with those love-hazy moments. But in reality, it messes with your love-life and it messes with your work. Like it had done now. You don't think straight when someone you love is in danger. And worse yet, I had interpreted the situation based on my egoistic idea that Thomas would only have eyes for me. What a blockhead I was. I, myself, was always eyeing beautiful women and flirting with them - old habits die hard. Not that I'd ever betray Thomas. He'd never shown signs of jealousy and I thought I'd also be as cool if - and that was a _big_ if - Thomas ever paid attention to somebody else than me. So, it turned out that I wasn't able to keep cool about it.

 I tried to smile as normally as I could, shame and jealousy raging in my head. I was still feverishly thinking who the hell this woman was, what was she to Thomas. As my thoughts turned to Thomas, I felt the shame flooding over me. I knew I was to hear about what almost had happened and I was not too certain I wanted to explain what had caused me to so grossly misconstrue her as a major threat.

 Thomas was saving the day and calming the woman down. He was soothing her like a child, using the reassuring, soft voice, holding her hands. Apparently, I had thought I saw a possible suspect directly behind them and was striding to the rescue, and hence it looked just like I was coming for her, which I of course was not. And despite trying to reason with myself, I grew more baffled and jealous. It didn't help that she was looking at Thomas as if _he_ was a superhero, her eyes litting again from admiration and desire. And when they started talking weird foreign gibberish together I felt so ignored I just had to interrupt.

 "Interesting language you are speaking, Mrs...?" I prompted.

 "Miss Lampi, Anne Lampi," she smiled for me, nowhere nearly as enthusiastically as she had smiled to Thomas. I was bit envious. Great time to start getting acquainted with my palette of feelings.

 "Mistress is from Finland. My apologies, Peter, I should have introduced you two," Thomas said, looking at me and I could see he was worried.

 "Anne, this is PC Peter Grant. Peter, this is Anne. We were talking about her country of origin.", He continued.

 "You have been there?" At the moment, I was not that much interested whether he had been there, I just wanted to initiate conversation that would take my mind of my feelings.

 "Just once. Long time ago." He said. By the way he said "long" I knew it was too long ago to be honest about. Probably somewhere before the events that got him secluded in the Folly. Not much of the help to keep conversation going. Luckily, Anne was rather a talkative person.

 "Inspector Nightingale speaks wonderful Finnish. I never thought I would run into somebody who knows our language. There are so many much more useful ones to learn, I'm sorry to admit," she sighed.

 Yeah, like Latin...

 "Finnish is a wonderfully expressive once you get into it. And grammar is very interesting," Thomas explained, radiating scholarly excitement.

 Anne laughed. "First time I ever hear somebody calling our grammar interesting. It is a wide spread consensus that it was invented to drive foreigners insane."

 They trailed off to talk about languages in general and I felt my attention slip... Her voice was, just like her body language had been, expressive and full of emotion. Her accent was definite, but something I couldn't quite place. A bit of Russian, maybe...? I tried to recall for any information I might have of Finland, but to me it was just a country on the edge of the Europe, somewhere northeast.

 I realized I had stopped listening for a while, but they did not seem to mind, too concentrated on comparing their linguistic notes on god knows what mind-alteringly boring grammatical stuff. She was apparently speaking enough languages to compete with Thomas. Freaks. I felt invisible, and uncomfortably stupid. There were not many areas in which I could have really in-depth conversations with Thomas... the way he seemed to enjoy talking to his seeming intellectual match made me decide to start digging into those literature classics he was always saying I should read.

 "Oh, I really should be going," Anne said , taking a glance at her cell phone. "I will be in London for couple of weeks still. If you remember any other good places, call me," she said, handing Thomas a business card from her bag.

 She then walked briskly away.

 "So she's a linguist, then?" I inquired.

 "No, a biologist," Thomas said, placing the card into his breast pocket.

 A biologist…who knows zillion languages. Had I not felt myself stupid before, I would have now.

 "She's here looking for spiders. There's a quite rare one living on this cemetery. The species is very photophobic, so night is best time to look for it. I also gave her few tips on other sites she might be interested in."

 " _Spiders_?" I shivered involuntarily and pulled a face.

 Thomas frowned, "You don't like spiders? They are exceedingly fascinating creatures, beneficial, and aesthetically pleasing as well."

 I was just staring in mild disbelief.

 "I dabbled a bit in entomology and arachnology when I was a boy. I had rather an extensive collection of beetles," he was smiling, thoughts somewhere far, far away.

 I was imagining young Thomas, concentrated in labeling insects, carefully examining their tiny details, putting them into neat little rows into neat little boxes. Sounded just like him.

 "It was an very eligible hobby for young boys at the time. Superlatively beneficial too: you got educated of the nature, got exercise and learned patience, discipline, organization and Latin."

 Of course.

 In order to be spared of a lecture on the fascinating world of bugs, I changed the subject.

 "When did you visit this...Finland?" There being just two of us, he could now actually answer this one.

 "In late thirties. During their war against Russia. At the end of first round, there were volunteers from many countries, including Britain, going to help them. A very unorganized blunder... I was there with some other people from the Folly to find out how they managed to keep their ground against a seemingly insuperable enemy."

 "They used magic?" This was turning interesting.

 Thomas shrugged. "We never really got that far. It's been since credited to their stubborn stamina, high morale, knowledge of local weather conditions... but it was more than that."

 "We were also there trying to stop Finland from slipping to the German side, but as history shows it was a futile attempt. Too little, too late. I sometimes wonder whether having them on our side would have made any difference.", he shrugged.

 "Their magic, the little we managed to see, was interesting though, different from ours. I wanted to go back and study it in depth, but then came..."

 His voice trailed off and I knew he was going to say "Ettersberg”. I could see the pain in his eyes again. I knew he was trying to avoid the subject, trying to avoid dwelling in his painful memories, for my sake, as well as his own.

 I was cursing the redhead who had made me ask about the past. I felt the urge to wrap my arm around Thomas and kiss the pain and sadness away... my poor love... I was just reaching for him when right behind us loud, happy voice called.

 "Excuse me, officers!" I snapped my hand back and we both turned around, spells ready. Redhead was standing there, smirking. "Oh, did not mean to startle you," she said noticing our alarm, "but I forgot my camera". She pointed the bag near our feet.

 Thomas was, as usual, quick to bend down and handed her the bag with a polite little bow, even reaching to touch to the rim of his hat. She giggled, and _curtsied_.

 "Thank you, Inspector." Her smile was wide and warm. "And as I seem to have lost myself, could you kindly show me the direction to the Egyptian Avenue?"

 That was the place where most of alleged attacks had been and we were yet to investigate that part of the cemetery. I opened my mouth to tell her to stay away from there. She was annoying me on so many levels, but I still couldn't let her go into potentially dangerous place. That's me: the Epitome of chivalry.

 Before I could say anything, Thomas stepped on my foot and pointed the way.

 She shot him a worshipping fan girl smile and started strolling to the south. Just before disappearing between gravestones she turned around, seemed to hesitate, and then shouted something in gibberish, winking.

 Thomas flushed all red.

 

 

 


	3. III

 ”What was that all about?”, I demanded. My foot hurt despite of the heavy boots. There better be good explanation.

”First of all, how can we let her go there, with possibility of ghouls acting up? Do you _want_ her to be bitten?”

”She will be fine.”, Thomas said, waving his hand like it was not a big deal.

I knew he was not a big fan of my favorite method of deduction, the gut-feeling, so he had to have some good reason to believe the little round lady would not end up scared out of her wits or worse, lacking bite sized pieces of her. She might need to lose weight, but there was much less traumatic ways of doing that.

”How can you tell? Are ghouls on low-fat diet or something?” I could not help myself. I was feeling bit nettled towards her.

Thomas looked sad. ”That was somewhat distasteful, Peter.”, disappointment clear in his voice, but he continued: ”Ghouls will not bother her, unless they wish for theirs skulls to be turned into ashtrays.” He said, matter-of-factly.

”What?! She is not normal human, then? How could you tell?” 

”Because of her origin combined with the fact that she could tell what I am.”

”Wow, wait a minute, she could tell you are a wizard?”

Many supernatural entities could smell out the practitioners of magic. No news there. But vice versa, we were usually able to tell that they were not completely normal, either. I had sensed absolutely nothing in her. Either she was very good at disguising herself or she was something I just could not recognize.

”What is she? ”

”I am not certain. I have met just a handful of the likes of her before and knowledge gathered by others is pitifully scarce. They are not wizards, or halflings, nor are they genii locorum. Just ordinary mortals, left aside few little things."

Little things? Like bashing the ghouls? I wonder what would big things be, then? 

"They are, as far as we know, only found in Scandinavia, and are most common in Finland. Not that they are that common in there, either. And probably even less common now than in the past. Running into one in here is an amazing chance.”

I was starting to forgive Thomas that he was so interested in her. Rare semi/quasi magical person would interest me, too.

"It has to have something to do with their nature. Old forests, spreading all away through North Asia, base rock dating back to birth of our planet. And amazing amount of lakes and waterways around."

”Sounds like a some sort of Mirkwood”, I cracked, knowing very well Thomas would probably not catch the Tolkien-reference. I am loathsome sometimes.

”Very good, you have been studying your German mythology.” Thomas praised.

What? There is a real Mirkwood? I did not let my face reveal I had no idea what he was talking about.

”They could be influenced by that environment or it could be hereditary – or maybe it is both. Be the reason what it may, sporadically women are born different.

All finnish women, even the ordinary ones, were quite severe. Proud, fiercely independent and rather dangerous if you gave them any reason to think you were a threat. At the time we were there, all the women carried a knife – and were quite capable of using it, too.”

I was wondering, whether redhead was breaking the law by carrying one.

“Her kind, “, he nodded to the direction the redhead had gone, “are even more proficient in taking care of themselves. “

I was feeling almost sorry for any ghoul she might come across.

Thomas continued his excited lecture: ”They are called ”emokarhu” by local practitioners. That means ”mother bear”. Scandinavians think that in their ancestry there is bit of a bear and that the spirit of the ancestral beasts manifests in these women. They were highly respected and considered a great blessing to the community they happened to be born in. Amongst other things they can sense the magic and are drawn to it.”

OK, hence the drooling fangirl. I was not certain whether I was feeling better or worse that she might not have been so obviously preferring Thomas over some masculine attributes, but over his magical mojo. Recalling her total ignorance of me, it was actually quite a painful idea. I know I am just on my way in learning the practice, but...

”As the local practitioners were under impression that this was more or less hereditary, they were not at all happy of foreigners courting indigenous women. Tainting the magic, diluting the blood, they said. Not that their disapproval had any effect – women did as they pleased.” He gave a dry laugh.

”And you can guess mother bears cared even less of what some chaps wanted or did not want them to do.” He fell suddenly quiet. There was an expression in his face I could not quite read.

He startled, like waking from the dream. Then he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

”It is late. I say we call it a day and go home. You and Lesley can check the rest of the cemetery tomorrow.” I could not believe my ears. Was he getting ill or something? But I would not argue in case he changed his mind – I wanted to go home.

 

It was only in the car that I remembered the other thing I was going to ask about.

"Thomas, about that lady...", I began.

"Yes, what about her?", he took a quick glance at me.

"What was it that she said last?"

Thomas's ears turned pink, blush raising to his cheeks.

"This is hardly the place to discuss it." he was slowing down, obviously feeling uncomfortable, shifting at his seat.

I guess he knew that I would keep on pestering him, because he gave out a desperate sigh, pulled over to the next parking lot and turned to me. He took a deep breath.

"You want to know what she said? Word for word she said:  'Magic man, if you and your hot boyfriend want to have threesome, you have my number.'", he was laughing, partly shocked, partly amused, all flushed now.

It was my turn to blush. Fuck me. What a nerve.

"These people can tell who you sleep with?"

"I am pretty certain that is just a female prowess", Thomas said coughing, getting bit of control back.

True. Lesley was always better in interpreting body language, seeing hidden emotions... It had taken me ages to realize Thomas was interested, and even then she had to rub it to my face. Had it been not for her, I might still be working under a governor, who was having serious hots for me, totally oblivious.

"But anyway, that is rather direct, don't you think?"

Thomas started laughing again. " I had totally forgotten. That is a finnish thing. They were mightily blunt. They said what they had to say, not any unnecessary small talk or cushioning added. And if they had nothing to say, they were quiet... They were quiet a lot.", he was reminiscing, smiling." First it was outlandish,  but you get used to it... and actually learn to savor the silence."

" _She_ was not very quiet." I commented, showcasing my exquisite observational skills.

"Indeed she is quite an extrovert compared to the Finns I met in thirties. But then again, it was long time ago, and world was different..." He was looking silently past me, staring at nothing.

"I am happy things change", he turned his gaze to me and raised his hand to my cheek, smiling.

  
I was surprised. Thomas had quite a strict idea of what was appropriate thing to do at work. He might sometimes put up with me showing affection on duty, but he _never_ stepped over boundaries himself. And even when we were off duty, he was extremely uncomfortable of public displays of attachment. Taking this into account I was even more surprised when he leaned over and pressed a hungry kiss to my lips.

I was totally unprepared and unable to answer. He had unbuckled his seatbelt and was pushing me against my seat. His mouth was hot and demanding. He was nibbling my lips, licking inside of my mouth, breathing out tiny moans. His was trying to unbuckle my seatbelt with other hand, and another was caressing my neck.

Not that I was complaining, that my lover was coming on to me, but in this context it was too aberrant behaviour to ignore.  Thomas soon understood I was not really following, and pulled back. Which was a good thing, otherwise I would have been forced to push him away. I would have. Really. Quite likely.

"Thomas," I noticed too late I was using the same tone he so often used to scold me over some totally insignificant error I might have done, like blowing out a room or two.

"What an earth are you doing?" He must have felt like this when I first kissed him. At least _I_ did not accuse him of being bespelled, although I was frantically looking for any signs of foul play.

He was breathing heavily, sheepish look on his face. And then the realization hit me:

"You were turned on by that request!"

I was not certain what I was feeling about this, but Thomas was looking so miserable, I could not start digging into that now. He had ebbed to his seat, hands in his lap trembling slightly. He was not looking at me.

I unbuckled myself to be able to turn to him. I tried to make him face me by pulling his arm, but he did not move. So I grabbed his hands instead.

“Hey, it's totally cool. Thomas, look at me.”

He glanced at me briefly, but lowered his gaze.

“Really, I am fine with anything, I was just surprised. I was not expecting this.”

 He swallowed and after a hesitation, he turned to me, letting me wrap my arms around him. He pressed his head to my shoulder. 

 “I was not expecting this, either. “, he murmured. “I am so sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry, silly. Why would I feel bad over you being impulsive? Isn't that what I have been wanting? Or have you somehow missed all the wailing and quibbling?” I could feel him chuckle, his shoulders untensing.

“If the threesome is what gets you this hot, I am not complaining.” I must admit I had been playing with the idea, but I had never been brave enough to suggest it. Not only was I maybe bit uncertain about it myself, but I also knew it might not catch fire with Thomas. He had, after all, shown no interest in women all the time I had known him. Nothing at all. But obviously I had been mistaken. In my head I was making a self-congratulatory little dance. This might get really exciting.

He was relaxed now, nuzzling the side of my neck with his nose and lips. I was feeling rather warm and ventured ahead:

“Remember Miriam? The hot latina we met at the park when trying to teach Toby to heal? She was giving us both really burning looks. I could call her and...”

Thomas froze. He sat back and gave me a tired look. He patted my knee absentmindedly.

“That is really not necessary.” he said, buckled his seat belt and started the car. " We need to be getting home. There is lots of work tomorrow."

He was stern and quiet all the way home and when we got there he just gave me a hasty kiss and retreated to the library under some transparent excuse. I knew he was going to be there for the rest of the night.

I was not at all following. What went wrong?

 

I only saw Thomas briefly in the morning. He had spent whole night in the library and in his study, and just hurriedly stopped by to take a quick shower and change his clothes. He was behaving just like nothing had happened. His way of dealing with potentially disconcerting or hurtful things was to avoid facing them and he was doing it now. I knew this for certain, because he had not been castigating me for nearly attacking the redhead.  I was actually being quite attracted to the idea of letting him sweep last night under the rug.

 

However, I consulted the superior mind.

 “... and you started suggesting the threesome with some random chick, that your dick had happened to notice?” Lesley, like a real officer that she was, double checked the facts. She had been rolling her eyes, letting out heavy sighs and even mimicking “death by the shared sense of shame”.  I am pretty certain my actions did not warrant the whole array. I had, after all, left out all really embarrassing bits, like feeling insanely jealous.

 “Um, I would not call her random... I carefully picked her, because...” My explanation was interrupted by a loud, despising snort from Lesley:

 “Yeah, right.”

 “I know you understand, but just do not want to see: What got him turned on, was the idea of threesome with that weird foreign bear-lady, not threesome with just anybody.”

 “But he only was interested in her because she is some rare freak of nature.”, I argued.

Already when saying this aloud loud I knew, with a sinking feeling, that it was only what I wanted to believe. I did not have to see Lesley's face to know she was thinking exactly the same thing.

 “Peter, for what I've seen and for what you've told, this might very well be the only woman on the face of this earth he's ever been even slightly interested in. Or ever will be. If you really, really want that threesome this might be your best chance. It's your choice.”

 “But I'm not interested in her!”

 “It's always about you, isn't it?” Lesley sounded sad. It was way worse than her being annoyed.

“You don't like her, because Nightingale likes her. You are just jealous. Which is quite hypocritical taking into account how openly you are drooling after almost any pair of breasts bobbing past.”

 I hate it when she sees right through me.

 “You are always whingeing that Nightingale is bit unimaginative in bed and now that he shows some healthy signs of climbing down of that Tower of Chastity, you slam the door onto his face. ”

 She was right. But it was not fair.

 I was trying to state my case: ” But  the way she was all over him… it was just creepy – I swear, had I not been there she would have tried to entice Thomas to some nearby hotel or even a mausoleum for a quickie, like.. yuck” Come to think of that, I was not too sure that Thomas would have declined...Fuck.

 “Envy suits you even worse than jealousy.” Leslie said dryly. “You are _so_ used to being the center of attention. Here is a woman he fancies and who fancies him. That is what he has to put up almost daily with you. I do not know how he does that you being such a jerk. You could try to be a bit discreet, at least.”

 “He does not seem to mind. He has not said anything.”

 Lesley gave me a frustrated look. Oh yeah, we were talking about the person who’s favorite method of coping was to clam up.

 “He must be desperately scared of losing you – that’s why he does not address this. He is avoiding the conflict. And you just keep on fueling his insecurity so that he is even less likely to tell his mind. Now that the joke is on you, you could try and think how you are making him feel. _All the time._ ” 

 “Um…” That wasn't a pleasant thought. Could she be right?

 Her phone rang and she tooka look at it. “I need to take this. “ She opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it and shook her head. She then answered and walked away to talk in private.

 I would not have to do anything about this right now. Right now I just wanted to have some brunch.

 On the way to the kitchen I saw that Thomas had left his mackintosh to dry in the scullery. Out of a whim I rummaged through the pockets and did find the business card. I wrote down the number, just in case.

 

 

Over a week flashed by – our investigation of the rest of the cemetery revealed that there indeed were ghouls behaving atypically, attacking living instead of keeping onto their stable died, the corpses. It took lots of the legwork and reading to figure out the cause. We had found out that something else was devouring newly buried and ghouls were simply hungry. Quick fix was to feed the ghouls with rotting pig carcasses. Dr. Whalid had connections to forensics and we got some used Piglets from their test sites. It was utterly disgusting project, but ghouls would be happy for weeks and we could concentrate on the underlying problem.

 I was walking home one evening. It had been raining, but now it was bright and brisk. After the operation “Squeals on Wheels” I had wanted a whole lot of fresh air whenever possible. On the street I saw a tall man wearing bright green rain poncho. I had occasionally thought of the readhead, but I was always too busy or tired or simply unwilling to take the matter under closer study. Now it suddenly occurred to me that she might have already left the country. It was surprisingly disappointing idea.

 I was ruminating my feelings for the rest of the way. After getting to the Folly I dug out the paper I had scribbled a number on and made the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it might seem very self-absorbed of me to use my own homecountry in the fic. However, that is something I already know something of and do not have to dig for background info. 
> 
> Some stuff of Finland is based on facts. Like the thing that ancient Finns did believe that they were descented partly from bears. Or that finnish women were known for their independent nature and knives were normal part of everyday clothing until quite recently. (my recent= under hundred years ago) (Interestingly russian word for finnish woman also means knife.)
> 
> However, there is no knowledge of any bear women in finnish mythology. (Albeit if they existed, would you think we muggles would know :) ?)
> 
> \-----  
> I am feeling a bit bad for making Peter look such an idiot. I do like the guy, really. But somehow he now seems to turn into this judas goat (heh) that gets the blame for all the shallow, egocentric shit any man has ever done... I was not planning this.


	4. Chapter 4

Phone call had been awkward. I had been able to hear that she was bit uncomfortable. I had resorted to half-honesty and told her that my partner had been enjoying the conversation he had with her so much, we wanted her to come and join us for a late lunch and continue. Because I was certain Thomas would be happiest at his comfort zone I had invited her to the Folly. And surprisingly she had agreed to come to the home of total strangers. She was leaving the country in couple of days, and she had reserved the day before that to get all of her things together, but she said she would be happy to spend couple of hours with us. I had one day to prep Thomas about us having a surprise guest. Being in hurry is good - there is no time to be afraid.

Thomas had been angry. He had every reason to: I had invaded his privacy by getting that number. I had invited a stranger to the Folly to eat and possibly engage sexual activities with us without asking him. He calmed down relatively quickly though.

Timing could not have been better, Lesley and Abby were going to visit Lesleys parents for a weekend. But seriously, I was not expecting anything of this. We would probably have a nice lunch and that would be it. But at least I would have given it a try.

I was nervous and it did not help at all that Thomas was fussing over everything. Making certain house was representable, making Molly and me get and do this and that, selecting a suit, and shirt and a tie... I was glad there was only so little time - having to tolerate his nervous excitement and all the replacement activity it caused for over a day would have been too much.

And thankfully it was soon tomorrow. Thomas was, despite of my best efforts to modernize his taste, wearing a grey lounge suit, vest and everything, assuring me that it was informal enough for this kinds of situations. Whatever. I had agreed to put on a dress shirt and trousers, but no matter how he huffed in reprehension, I refused to wear a tie. I was feeling uncomfortable even without that.

Anne arrived, right on time. I marked that she stepped in, over the threshold, like there was nothing there. She seemed bit apprehensive at first, but  melted to a huge smile as soon as she saw Thomas and let him take her coat. She was unquestionably impressed by his looks. She had only seen him in rain gear in the middle of the night and even then she had not been able to take her eyes from him. Now he was all groomed and dressed and looked very, very handsome. I felt the sudden yearn for him. He was mine. That beautiful man. He _kissed her hand_ and instead of finding this somewhat odd she curtsied disregardfully. Match made in heaven. Why was I here again?

I just gave her my hand and she reached for a shake, giving a tiny bow. As soon as she put her hand in mine, she froze.

" _Two_ magic men?" she gasped and glanced to me in awe.

So it was by the touch she got the information about the magic. I felt immediately better. She hadn't known I was a wizard, too. _That_ was the reason she had so totally ignored my presence before. It was not the lack of my magic mojo or anything.

  
She was dressed informally, but very tastefully to a long, rust-red probably linen sun dress and a big, drapey scarf that was covering her shoulders. She was extremely sorry about her lack of finesse, she really had not thought she would need formal dress during this trip. She was also gesturing apologitecally to her still moist hair.

"I have been packing my things the whole day - I wanted to get all of that out of the way so I would not have to hurry away from here. After that I really I needed to get a shower and I do not have a blow-drier. I shower so often, my hair would have long burned away if I used any warmth to dry it. I know it is criminally unecological of me to use as much water as I do, but I just love water so much. I am certain I was a hippopotamus in previous life.", she almost snorted a laugh.

Plausible... She was not as fat as I remembered, her dress was much more flattering than the rain poncho had been, but she was still way over my BMI-standards.

Liking the water made kind of sense if she was from the country with lots of water around. I was thinking of Beverley and other Rivers, their natural inclination to the water.

"Have you ever swum in Thames?", I could not help asking.

Thomas shot me a glance.

"No, I have not. I could spend a day in a lake at home, but here water smells wrong.... and... it is not very inviting. Sounds silly, really, but..." , she shrugged.  "I do not much like sea water either."

OK. So maybe river entities did not get along with the creatures of standing water? Interesting.

Toby, our nobel guard dog, had finally realized there was a stranger in the house. He came barking, took a look at her and flopped to her feet.  He was rewarded with plentiful scratches to his tummy. It was obvious she liked dogs,  kneeling down, almost forgetting we were both standing there as she was fussing over Toby.  Little dog was smitten with her, his tail wagging so fast that it was almost invisible. I was wondering would she be as good with Peggy. We had decided that although biologist might appreciate living, breathing microraptor, it was better to keep our monster chicken a secret, so she was confined to Abby's room.

Anne stopped petting Toby and rose to her feet. Thomas offered her his arm which she gingerly took and I followed as they left the foyer. She was looking very happy, blushing and staring at him all big eyes. She _still_ preferred him?

She was obviously impressed with the Folly, too.

"This place is _beautiful_. Just like from movies. And this is huge. How many people live here?" We did not have time to answer. She saw one of the chairs, let go of Thomas's arm and stepped to it.

"Is _this_ genuine!?"

Soon she was dashing from one piece of furniture to another and letting out exited noises. Thomas was smiling happily. At last there was someone, who would understand why he got such a fit anytime we left our muddy clothes on the chairs.

"WOW. Some treasures you have here." she returned to us, eyes glowing and cheeks burning pink.

"Sorry, I get so easily carried away. You see, I was considering of studying history, before my interest for creepy crawlies won. And I still can't help but love anything old and dusty." She laughed warmly.

"So that's why you are so into Thomas." I blurted and seeing a little hurt on Thomases face I wished I hadn't.

"That is certainly a part of it, yes... " she said, looking at me and I'm sure her blue eyes turned a bit colder.

"... but mainly I am attracted to the smart ones." she finished, shifting ever so lightly towards Thomas, as if to indicate which one she thought was the intelligent one and which one was the dum-dum.

That was so unfair. I might not be into languages or freaking bugs, but I wasn't stupid. I felt my jaw clench.

I was just about to stab something about some of us spending time to take care of their physique instead of sitting on their arse and reading, but luckily Thomas hastily announced that how about we were going to get that lunch now.

Anne brightened up, grabbed his arm and shot a wistful look at him. He showed the way and when we got to the dining room, helped her to get seated opposite us. She behaved very gracefully, reacting to his old-fashioned manners as if they were totally normal. It was like watching an old film. 

"Oh. my. god.", Anne was staring at the food. It was typical Molly-style. It was traditionally british and there was _lots_ of it.  Thomas had tried to negotiate more continental style menu, but as so often in stressful situations, Molly had regressed back to her basic cooking.

 

Which Anne seems to appreciate:

"This is so much like traditional finnish food, potatoes being closest things to vegetables." she was laughing. Despite myself, I really liked her laugh. It was warm and friendly and plentiful.

  
She declined the wine, save a mouthful for taste and to prove very nonchalantly that she was some what a connoisseur of that field, too.  Why wasn't I surprised.

 

I could see Molly inching to the room, carefully sniffing the air. She saw Anne and let out low growly sound. In a heartbeat, before Thomas could tell Molly to behave, Anne had jumped to her feet and turned to give a sharp bark – or so it sounded – at Molly, teeth bared. Molly retreated, immediately lowering her gaze, submissive.  Anne stepped to her. Molly did not flee, but kept her eyes averted.  Thomas was gesturing me to stay still.

”What ever happens, do _not_ move.”, he said.

Anne carefully  lifted Mollys face to her, and stroking her cheek gently with her fingertips, examined her eyes.

”You poor thing...” she gasped .

I shrugged at Thomas, I had seen this happen before. Molly had endured some serious crap in her past and many creatur... affected people could sense it in her.  But nobody reacted as Anne:

She turned around, suddenly full of of anger – so scary I almost pushed back in my chair. Oh shit.

In my mind I was seeing flashes of a huge bear, raising to its hind legs looming high and horrible above us, teeth bared and growling, protecting its cubs, children, land, everything that was small and vulnerable and unable to defend themselves. I smelled pines. _Vestigia._ She indeed had magic in her.

"Did you do _that_ to her? Are you imprisoning her?” She was staring at Thomas, rage and disgust dribbling from every word.

No more Little Miss Fangirl, then... I had no doubt she could seriously hurt us.

Thomas was unfazed. "It was other people. She is protected here and she is staying by her own free will."

Molly was clasping her shoulder and Anne glanced at her. After a moment of silence Anne unwound, breathed out and gave a pained smile.

"Apologies. Exploitation and cruelty make me flip."

She patted Molly's hand, sat down and continued to chat as if nothing had happened. So did Thomas. He had been waiting for this to happen? I would really have appreciated, if he had shared the memo with me, too...  my heart was still pounding in my chest. What had I introduced under our roof?

All I could do was to trust that Thomas knew what he was doing.


	5. Chapter 5

Watching Anne eat was an education on its own right. I had witnessed some magical creatures eat amazing amounts of food. Anne was not their match, she actually ate quite a little, but the enthusiasm she presented was simply breathtaking.

She was eating neatly and yet like she had been starving, loving each mouthful from the bottom of her heart. She ate sensually, licking, nibbling the food, letting out appreciative sounds of pure gustatory pleasure. It was so sexual in nature that I was willing to bet my months salary that she liked giving blowjobs. She was loving everything she tasted and Thomas kept on enticing her to try every course.

Between engaging an oral love affair with whatever was on her plate she proved to be an excellent conversationalist. She had already shown that she was broadly educated. She was openly admitting her ignorance -sports and music were huge black holes in her mind - but just about anything else would go. To my delight she was a keen sci-fi fan. I soon found myself in deep conversation about books, movies and TV-series. She was a wonderful listener, frankly behaving like anything I said was a smartest thing in the world, slipping in questions and making me feel really interesting. She managed to keep Thomas engaged too, making references to the literature outside of the popular culture, letting him shine with his ability to make intertextual connections, and making him laugh. She had been travelling around the globe most of her adult life, so she had lots of wonderful little anecdotes to tell. She was simply charming.

I was having great time. I was totally forgetting the shock she had given me. After calming down I could not blame her for being angry. I was thinking the things they had probably done to Molly and I felt sick in my stomach. I guess, had I been her and thought we were to blame, I would have slashed out too. Probably much worse than she did. 

After eating the main courses, we moved to the library and sat down. I was sitting on the sofa with Thomas and she had found a comfy armchair and curled there. She was eyeing the big, old bookshelves and I knew she was burning to take a look at them. It did not take a lot of brainpower to realize she was quite a bibliophile. She stood up and I was certain she was going for the books.

But instead of throwing herself to the arms of information, she nudged herself between us and after a moment of gathering herself started:

“As it seems to be the time for the dessert... About my …. suggestion… did you..” she glanced at Thomas, "did you tell..." And she blushed, falling silent for a moment. Thomas had put his hand around her encouragingly and nodded.

“Oh, you did.    ...I understand it was very daring of me and I totally get if you …”she stammered.

Thomas silenced her by turning to kiss her.

It was a gentle and long kiss. I loved when he kissed me like that.

“I take it that you are willing to give it a try, then.”, she rasped, voice thick after he had left her panting. “I'm glad. It's been so long since I last saw anyone with magic.”

So maybe “magic men” were not just the preference but only people mother bears were interested in?

Avoiding awkward situations when trying to initiate sex between two people is easy: just kiss the silence and all the problems away. But when there are three people trying to find the words to suggest something obviously none of them has ever done… plain painful. 

But she soon took control and we were heading for our bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting to the smut I began to write this for. I have no idea how this ballooned like this. I wanted to have some sort of a plot, not just porn. Some motivation behind them, and I end up wit thousands of words of jabbering.... '
> 
> Now it gets fun >:)


	6. Chapter 6

Anne had grabbed her bag with her and went to the bathroom to slip into something bit more comfortable and left us sitting on the bed. We kicked off our shoes and waited.

I was not feeling convenient. She was very nice and witty and funny and fucking scary in a kind of interesting way, but... this was just weird.  This was not the way I had imagined threesomes going. I had envisioned great passion and unthinkingly drifting into bed... and... I do not know.  Thomas on the other hand was atypically excited. He was all touchy feely over me and I tried my best to get into the mood. Soon making out with Thomas was starting to get me relaxed, his hands in my hair, his mouth on my mouth... it was nice and familiar.

Unfortunately it did not take long for Anne to return. Thomas sprang to his feet and I followed. She was wearing a  long, silky robe. She padded to us and looked up to us, bit worried, but mostly enquiring, like trying to decide where to start.

"You two go ahead.", I said. I felt a bit sick. Just nerves, I guess.

She shrugged and cocked her head to Thomas, smiling. Her hands trembled a bit, when she reached for his tie but she got it open with couple of tugs, pulled it away and tossed aside. His best tie. He did not even flinch - he really must like her.  I stepped away - she needed some space.  They needed space. I was making myself  as incospicuous as possible.

She stripped him slowly of his jacket and vest, stopping every now and then to tenderly stroke his cheek and to brush his lips with her fingertips. Thomas was helping, looking at her and caressing her hair, turning to kiss her hands. It was oddly unhurried and ritualistic, again I felt like watching some old movie. But I realised that they were savoring it. She wanted to enjoy the moment and he was letting her. She unbuttoned his shirt, stepping closer, gliding her hands on his chest. She took a deep breath, smelling him and left out a quivering, happy sigh. Her hands found the scar and she frowned, then pulled back to see, what she was touching. Seeing ugly reminder of the shot to the chest made her wince and she was about to say something, but Thomas took her face between his hands and bent down to kiss her.  Nice one. Shutting somebody up by kissing. He learned that from me.

They kept on kissing for a while, breathing getting heavier. I was feeling  a bit warm, so I unbuttoned my shirt. Thomas had stepped to the bed and was now sitting on the edge. Anne was standing on the floor. This made them almost same height.

It was simultaneously bizarre and exciting to watch how Thomas got more and more aroused. I was recognizing all the little tell-tale signs.  Sounds he kept, how his breathing changed, growing impatience and hunger in his movements... and it was turning me on. Shivers went through my spine.

He reached to kiss Anne's neck. She twitched and giggled. Ticklish. How cute.

Thomas removed her robe, taking - and I shit you not - _worshipping_ look at her. All of her. He loved my body, because I was taut, but in her... I do not understand what he saw in her...  I am dating a weird, weird guy.

To be honest, I was expecting her to look much worse naked. But unveiled she looked best so far. Curvy, just grossly exaggerated. Her hips and thighs were not just full, they were monumental, strong, their curves continuing rather aesthetically to the round, almost pregnant-looking belly and to the soft folds round her back, above her big, round buttocks. That was indeed a butt even a black woman would have been proud of. Her breasts, not overly big, were round and heavy looking. She looked oddly familiar. I realized she reminded me of those stone-age fertility figurines. Fertility goddess in flesh. That was actually quite an exciting idea.

Thomas was enjoying himself: he was gently fondling her body with both hands, pressing his cheek to her breasts. He stroked her back and hips as far as he could reach, pushed and kneaded the rolls of fat on her flanks, squeezing them, making her whimper out loud, and her knees to buckle.  She had been caressing his head and neck, but now she had to grasp his shoulders for support.

So here was a living fertility-statuette, ancient über-woman, melting in the hands of my love. It was hot. I was definitely ready for joining in, but I was not certain how to enter.

  
Thomas lifted his gaze and with a little nod beckoned me to come to him. Anne gave me room, stepping aside. Thomas reached for me hungrily, pulled me down to the kiss. He was indeed aroused, nearly too eager for my current mood. He was kissing me so forcefully it was almost painful - but just almost. We were both gasping for breath when I pulled away to get rid of my shirt and trousers. I was hard, my boxers feeling tight. I hauled him up to the bed - we were kneeling, chest to chest, panting.

He turned to gesture Anne to us. She had obviously been enjoying the sight, because she was all blushed and breathing very heavily. She placed herself behind Thomas.  He then turned to me and we continued kissing.  He was holding my hips and I lifted my hands to stroke his neck and the back of his head. Anne was leaning closer, stroking Thomases back and arms, stripping his shirt as down as it went, until Thomas let go of me for a while to let her get it away. She was kissing his back, letting her hands wander to his chest, caressing.  Thomas slid downwards, making wonderful things with his tongue at the hollow of my throat. I gave out a gasp as he gently bit down to my collar bone. This was good.

"Are you having penetrative sex together? Which way? "Anne asked without any warning. I was totally startled. And I wasn't the only one: I could feel Thomas choking against my throat and heat of embarrassment flush to his face. Blunt indeed. I cleared my throat.

”Yes, yes we have.” I was feeling more than bit weird of answering to this stranger ”And both ways” I managed to add before the fit of embarrassment made me hide my face to Thomas's hair. I got a tiny glimpse how he must be feeling every time I engage a conversation about our intimate life.

 ”Oh goody!"

I could not see her, but her voice was excited and from the sound of it she must have been positively gleeing.

"That gives so much more room to be creative. Can't wait!”

Thomas was blushing all  the way, even under his hair – I could feel the heat radiating against my face, and obviously losing his concentration. I was certain he was going to bolt any second now. Or die of mortification. This was not going very well. I glanced at Anne.

But Anne must have realized how fragile the situation was. She lowered her hands possessively yet gently to Thomas's shoulders, leaning herself against his back, lowering to murmur to his ear.

” You are so shy, Inspector” She bent her head, kissing his skin next to my fingers, caressing the nape of the his neck with her nose.

”It is absolutely adorable.” she whispered.

Thomas was relaxing, succumbing to her soothing, low voice, letting Anne pepper his neck and shoulders with her mouth.  I gave her room as she was kissing his neck more intensely and lowered myself to kiss Thomas – he was pressing his lips to me hungrily,  rasping my lips with his teeth, giving tiny bites.

”I could just eat you” Anne murmured and gave out voracious little sounds.

I  could not see her, but I guessed she must have nibbled just the right place,  because I could feel Thomas's cock twitch in his trousers and erection harden against my stomach as our kisses muffled the sudden raw sound of pleasure. I helped my aching cock from the boxers, pushing them down my hips - much better.

For a while it was all kissing and gasping and moaning and then Anne continued to talk with the same low, quiet voice

”Shy is adorable...” she was murmuring to his ear, pausing to give a tiny bite to his earlobe and making him gasp. ”...but in the dinner table and bed you have to open your mouth, Inspector, or you will miss out the best treats.”

She continued kissing his neck, taking breaks to lowly mumble gibberish, making Thomas chuckle and smile against my lips. He stopped kissing me.

”She is talking dirty.”, he grinned ” some things apparently do not translate very well.”  His grip on my hips tightened and he was grinding against me.

Whatever, but I was growing annoyed again, felt left out. I was getting a feeling she was pushing my buttons on purpose and started to lose my interested in this whole game she was having on us. Thomas never had indicated he _liked_ dirty talk... What was it in her that I could not do?

Before I managed to let my ego get the better of me, Anne suddenly rose, grasped Thomas by his hair and pulled his head back in not at all gently way.

”So, like I said, Inspector, you should speak up.” her voice was was full of command, not unlike Rivers, when trying to glamor you. But there was no glamor, just human being with lots of assertiveness.

”What is it that you want?”, she tightened her grip, ” Speak. Now.”

Thomas winced – pulling his hair couldn't have felt very nice – hesitated and then, almost inaudibly whispered:

”I would like to watch.”  He blushed ferociously, voice trailing to embarrassed huffing.

Anne grinned teeth showing  and let out an excited cry. She kissed Thomas to his lips,  now gently stroking his hair as if to apologize. She turned her eyes to me.

They were almost black, pupils enlarged from arousal so that you could not tell their colour.  Her face lovely and blushed. She raised her eyebrow questioning.

I had been so surprised that I only now realized what his request meant: having sex with Anne in front of him. Oh bugger.

I was _not_ that into her. She was admittedly much less of a turn-off than I had anticipated, but still really not my type... She looked quite ok, now that I was seeing the fertility figure in her, but...  and anyway, I she obviously was not that into me either.

But if Thomas enjoyed watching... well, it was doable. And being not that turned on would make it last longer, so more eye candy for him. He was so going to owe me.

Anne could obviously read agreement in my body language.

”So move a side, Inspector, and watch.” she told Thomas and backed a away a bit to let him slide away. He really slid – we were all mightily sweaty.

He put on his bathrobe and sat in the armchair, cheeks blushing, ears burning, looking for a moment like a schoolboy who just found out there is a peeping hole to the big girls (or in his case I guess big boys) dressing room. That was so endearing.

Anne turned to me and inched closer. She glanced down, unashamedly checking me out. Her eyes widened and she gave out a delighted sigh. 

”Our Inspector is a lucky man indeed. You are even more beautiful undressed.” there was nothing but honesty in her voice.

She let her hands trail down my pecs and to my stomach like appreciating a piece of art. I am such a sucker for flattery, I felt my erection, that had softened a bit while contemplating my sad responsibility to fuck Anne, start to harden again and as I saw her watching my hardening cock with pure admiration, almost unbreathing, my masculinity got such a boost, I was suddenly rock hard again, my erection springing upwards.

I could hear a grunt from Thomas, stole a glimpse at his direction and saw him eating the view: us, me, my now throbbing erection – with his eyes. It was so hot.

My reaction seemed to please Anne as well. She leaned to me, cupped my neck to her soft, small hand and at that I realized that under all that fat she must have been even more delicately built than Lesley, tiny, fragile thing. Like I said, I do appreciate a curvy figure, but she was fatter than any woman I had ever been intimate with. I did not know what to expect when I leaned for the kiss and started to fondle her. I was hoping it would not be too unpleasant.

It turned out to be wonderful. She was an interesting combination of firm and soft, Mostly she was soft, and round, very sensual to touch.  I caressed her, stroked and fondled the her, like I had seen Thomas do. It felt very nice indeed, especially because my touch was rewarded with shivers going through her and tiny voices of pleasure bursting from her mouth.

She was kissing and nibbling my neck and shoulders, then trailed down my body,  grabbed the base of my cock and without further warning slid it in her mouth. Precum was acting as lubricant, and her mouth was moist and hot and good. I had guessed right. Anyone who took such an oral pleasure from food, must be good in giving head. She was obviously enjoying what she was doing, devouring me with enthusiasm, totally concentrated and letting out hungry sounds. I could hear Thomas breathing very hard. We must have looked deliciously dirty. I had to make her stop before I would come and she whimpered in disappointment when I pulled away from her and raised her to her knees again.

 

I kissed her, kept on caressing her body – now that I was over the initial insecurity about its feel I was able to enjoy it more, taking more daring feel, pressing harder. Under the amazing softness I could feel strong muscles tensing and relaxing - she might be fat, but fat slob she was not. My hands were finding a way up and down her landscape quite enjoyable.

“Grab me harder.”, she asked.

 And I did. She gave an approving yelp, kissing me hungrily.

I was squeezing her, rubbing my cock against her soft tummy and she turned to nuzzle my neck, gasping and moaning. She raised a bit to adjust my leg between her thighs and started grinding herself against me.

I could feel she was wet and hot and slippery, her strong thighs were squeezing my leg hard. She was gasping and panting against my throat, fingers digging into my shoulders as her movements were growing more forceful and quicker. She was trembling under my arms.

I was not sure how long I could last her almost desperately masturbating against me.

She suddenly stopped, took some distance and looked at Thomas.

“I am so sorry, Inspector, I wanted you to have a better show, but...” , she said, turning her eyes to me.

“... you are so hot an good and sexy. You get me so turned on I just have to get my release right now.”

“May he fuck me, please, already?”, she pleaded, eyes turning to Thomas.

She was asking his permission? Like I belonged to him? It was... hot.

He nodded, staring at me.

“Say it.” she ordered.

“Yes.”, his voice was rasp, just a whisper.

“Yes what?”

“You may fuck her, Peter.”

I then recognized he had unzipped his trousers and was jerking himself, erection presented between the open bathrobe like on the stage of some obscene puppet theatre. I had sudden urge to take a part in the play... I wanted to take his hard, hot cock into my mouth and suck it, swirl my tongue under that engorged head, feel the taste of the precum that was dribbling and glistening...

“ _Tell_ him to.”, her demand snapped me out of it.

“Fuck her, Peter.”, he gasped out. And after a dubious moment, looking straight into my eyes, he commanded :

“Fuck the bitch hard.”

He had to turn his face away for a moment, but he soon raised his eyes and despite the hue of shame and fear, eagerness in them was clear. 

“Yes sir!”, I could not help saluting.

Anne laughed, pleased. Thomas was not able to hide the smirk, either. I don't know what she did to him and how she got him into this, but it was so cool. I could only hope this playfulness was something to stay.

 

I turned to look at Anne, grabbed her and lowered her on her back, on the pillows, placing myself between her legs. I reached to the nightstand and took the condom. I and Thomas had both cleared medical, but he preferred to use condom during intercourse, because it was less messy. And it was only wise to play safe with strangers. On Anne's face I could see a flash of something like... disappointment? She breathed out, tremoring in anticipation.

She guided me and I pushed inside. She was more than well lubricated, there was a lecherous, soggy sound and I was all sheathed. She moaned and curled around me.

She was tight and soft simultaneously, closing around me hot and wet. Awesome. I started moving, bit worried there might not be enough friction – I was after all used to now to anal intercourse and she was almost dripping wet. But she clenched around me, bringing her thighs closer together.

I was shivering with pleasure, pushing in and out, groping her enormous ass. She was grasping me and growling. For a brief moment I was bit afraid she _was_ going to turn into a bear.

He belly was big and soft, like a pillow under me. Most comfortable ride ever, I must admit. There was not one hard, pointy spot in her. She was like a sea (or lake) wavering, gushing, flowing under me, conforming, cushioning my thrusts. She was now almost weeping, loud, wet sobs of pleasure.

“Harder.”

First I thought it must be Anne, but realized, it had been Thomas. He had inched to the edge of the chair.

Anne gave almost triumphant grunt, lifted her legs surprisingly effortlessly up, knees leaning against my shoulders and pushed her crotch against me.

“Do as you are told, Constable.”, she said.

Breathing very, very hard she then pressed her mouth to my collar bone and mumbled:

“I do like it rough, remember.”

“I don't want to hurt you.” I whispered. I did not. At some point, yeah, maybe I would have liked to give her hell, but no.

She spoke very quietly, hands moving soothingly on my neck and shoulders.

“You can't. You wouldn't. You are the protector, not the destroyer. I do not engage with people who hurt others. You will not hurt me. Do it.”

 

And so I fucked her harder than I have ever dared to fuck anybody, thrusting deep and strong. She was taking it all, biting my neck, clasping my flanks and trying to pull me even deeper.

She was mumbling in gibberish again. It was so quiet, it could not be for Thomas to hear. And it was certainly not for me. It dawned on me that she was talking to herself, turning herself on. Just like she had probably done earlier. It was not about me or Thomas or about making me feel bad. She was doing it for her own satisfaction. I remembered Thomas sometimes mumbling Latin in bed. I did not let it bother me and this was no different. I briefly wondered how do you say “ I'm coming!” in Latin, but could not really hold the thought.

Her muscles were contracting around me in a way I have never experienced before, and part of me wanted to ask what she was doing. But it was so amazing I could just grunt and keep on driving my hard cock inside her again and again. Deeper and harder. I was sweating all over her, sweat dripping down my nose, down my back and belly. It made salacious sounds of flesh pounding flesh even louder. I could feel the shock waves of my impacts ripple through her body. I am certain that Thomas could see them.

I was just vaguely aware of his stare, his panting, quickening jerking and then Anne let go of me, throwing herself backwards to the pillows. She bellowed raw, primordial cry and I could feel her orgasm start to spasm through her whole body, her clunge contracting around me tighter than ever before. All of her muscles tightened and she tried to arch, but I had thrown myself on top of her, my hands on her breasts. I was bucking, last powerful thrusts, pinning her to the mattress. And then I came, crying, still pumping against her. I think I heard Thomas groan in climax as well, but I was not sure. World was black and soft and my cock was caressed by hot pulses which I knew was Anne keeping on orgasming around me.

 

_I smelled pines and firs, could almost hear the waves of distant water, feel the cool breeze on my face. It was dark and warm, I was safe, protected. There was an enormous presence with me, around me, watching over me and no harm could get past it - past her._

 Next thing I realized was somebody kissing my neck. It was Thomas. I was sprawling sweaty and spent on top of Anne, on her arms, my hands still grasping her breasts... _hard_. Oops. She was brushing her hand through my hair, ever so gently, still occasionally breathing in quickly as I could feel spasms of her orgasm still linger. I raised myself, pulled out to get the condom and took the swipes Thomas already was giving us.

After we got cleaned I crashed, totally exhausted, next to Anne and Thomas flopped to her other side. He reached over her head, coaxing his arm around me. Anne snuggled against him and I pressed against her. Thomas gave her a kiss to the forehead.

“Thank you.”, he said, with the most polite tone of voice – always the gentleman.

”No, thank _you_.”, she responded in equally polite tone. She kissed Thomas's chest, reaching behind her to get my hand and give it a squeeze.

 

I was gently stroking her still moist and tangled hair and tried to unravel the mess. She looked like a little troll. She grunted sleepily, muttered briefly in gibberish and Thomas chuckled:

“There is apparently a special word for the tangled hair you get during sex. Very expressive language.”, he explained, gently stroking her shoulder.

“You could use pigtails to prevent that. Or a swimming cap. Or a bobby helmet!”, I adventured.

Both Thomas and Anne turned to dart a dirty look at me. Some people have no sense of humour.

 

We all soon fell a sleep.


End file.
